The Roles We Play
by Crysania
Summary: A semi-AU of Skin Deep. If I say anything more than that I'll ruin the whole thing! Sequel to A Sunday's Entertainment and Revenge Gone Awry. Rumbelle-centered


"My price…is her." Belle watches as Rumplestiltskin saunters closer to her, one strangely colored finger pointed directly at her. She moves closer to him, head cocked slightly to the side. He's dressed all in leather, sharp and spiky. He moves with a grace she didn't expect, like a cat about to pounce on his prey. With strange eyes and even stranger skin, he cuts a striking figure. He looks like no one she has ever seen before and that thought alone intrigues her.

"No," her father says, moving to stand slightly in front of her. Belle pushes past him to keep an eye on the strange imp who has invaded their war room, admittedly at her father's request.

Gaston, her rather unfortunate betrothed, keeps his sword held up, the tip of it pointed at the imp's heart. It would do little good. Even Belle knew that a sword was no match for the Dark One. Gaston…he never had been the brightest.

Rumplestiltskin spreads his ever-moving hands out in a gesture of mock surrender. "I need a caretaker, you see…for my rather large…estate." That pause. Her eyes narrow slightly.

Her father grabs her arm and pulls her back. She hadn't even realized she had been moving forward, stepping closer to the imp. "Do you intend to have your way with her?"

Belle steps forward and looks Rumplestiltskin square in the eyes. "He never said that."

"No, but he wanted to." And he giggles. "Just go along with it, dear," he says with a wave of his hand, shooing her back into place. Belle sighs.

With a flourish of his hands, Rumplestiltskin approaches her father and puts his hand over his heart. "Sir, I intend to fall madly in love with her…and _then_ have my way with her." He quirks one eyebrow at her father and then glances at her, his tongue coming out to slide quickly across his lips. Belle rolls her eyes. Thankfully this is _not_ how it all went.

Gaston suddenly rushes forward and pushes her back behind him. "The young lady is engaged to _me_." He brandishes his sword once more. Oh yes, she remembers his rather annoying attempts to claim her as if she were some sort of property. _This_ was definitely how it went.

Rumplestiltskin bats playfully at the sword, turning it away easily and Belle grins. It takes her only a moment to realize that despite Gaston's bulk being in her way, she can _still_ see Rumplestiltskin. She steps around her former betrothed and takes a close look at him.

"Wasn't Gaston taller than this?" She looks at Rumplestiltskin, who sighs and waves a hand. The action freezes around her.

"I don't think so." His eyes are wide open, guileless. She had forgotten how difficult it was to read his inhuman face. The face of "Mr. Gold," the human face of Storybrooke that she had gotten so used to, with its lines and clear brown eyes was so much more expressive.

She walks a quick circle around Gaston, examining him from all sides. She remembers his towering over her. This Gaston is perhaps no more than six inches taller than her. "No, I really do think he was taller than this."

"I think you're wrong, love." She turns and watches him for a moment. He stares right back, his expression never wavering. Finally he sighs. "Oh forget it." And with a flick of his wrist Gaston is engulfed in purple smoke.

When it clears, Belle is surprised to find her former fiancé gone and laying where he once stood was a beautifully formed perfect red rose. Rumplestiltskin bends over with a graceful flourish and plucks it from where it lies. "Here…if you'll have it." With a shy gesture he presents the rose to Belle.

She reaches out a hand toward the rose, but stops suddenly. "Oh Rumple."

"You're supposed to say 'why thank you' and then curtsey," he points out helpfully.

"You _didn't_."

He cringes and the hand holding the flower sinks just slightly. "And if I did…"

"I trimmed the stem!" His eyes slid away from hers. "Oh no…did I kill him?" She claps a hand over her mouth.

"I doubt it dear."

"Then where is he? I never saw him…"

"He's probably still sitting at the Dark Castle floating in that vase."

"Without water," she shoots back.

"Oh this is ridiculous," he says with a huff. Tossing the flower over his shoulder, much to Belle's annoyance, he puts his arm around her, resting his hand lightly at her waist.

"It's forever, dearie," he whispers in her ear and suddenly the people around her begin moving again.

"I can't let you go with this _beast_, Belle." Was her father's voice that whiney? No, she was sure he was more demanding, firm, like the nobleman he had been.

Belle turns to face her father, gently putting a hand on his chest. It's all out of order, but she knows what she must say anyway. "Father please. No one decides my fate but me." She tries to forget how he had attempted to decide her fate yet again fairly recently. She tries not to think how low Rumplestiltskin's curse had taken her once proud father. She's sure there is something there, some reason for that, but now is not the time to sort out that messy part of her life.

Rumplestiltskin walks up close behind her, and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her tight up against his side. He leans over and bites down lightly on her earlobe and behind her Belle hears swords drawn, her father's gasp. This was _definitely _not how it went. Rumplestiltskin stops suddenly and turns his head back to them. "Oh…congratulations on your little war!" And he giggles before drawing her forward once more.

As they walk, he crushes the flower beneath the heel of one perfectly placed boot.

Belle rolls her eyes as they disappear into the purple smoke that surrounds them.

* * *

They materialize, as they did once so long ago, in the Great Hall of the Dark Castle. Belle smiles as she looks around the room, the glorious large table that always had been too big for the two of them (it would have been too big for a dozen), the spinning wheel off to the side, its half-filled basket of straw nearby. There were two chairs by the fireplace, a book left sitting on the table between them, only partially finished.

Rumplestiltskin is somewhere ahead of her and she rushes to catch up. "Where are you taking me?" He stops suddenly and she nearly runs into him. As he turns back toward her, she realizes he's only a scant few inches away and she finds herself staring into a pair of mesmerizing reptilian eyes. They're wide, not quite hiding the glint of amusement in them.

"Why, right here dearie." He grips her around the waist and suddenly she's lifted into the air. He turns and releases her once her bottom lands lightly on the table. Belle gasps. She's forgotten how strong he was back home. Oh, not that he wasn't strong in this new land, but somehow the injured foot and the cane make it less likely that he'd be able to lift her up onto the table. She truly hopes this little interlude won't aggravate the pain she knows he's often in.

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, worrying it slightly with her upper teeth. "What…" she begins. This is whole new territory for them. "What are you going to do to me?" She meets his eyes for a moment and looks away. This is a game they're playing and she really is trying her best to keep it up.

Rumplestiltskin leans forward and whispers into her ear. "Well, my dear…since I'm already madly in love with you, I thought I'd have my way with you now."

Belle giggles and slings her arms around his neck. "You know, I always did like this table," she whispers.

"Did you now?" He quirks one eyebrow at her. "I often wondered. You spent so much time sitting on it." He leans forward and presses his forehead up against hers. "You know I always imagined…"

"Always?" Her eyes opened wide.

"Well, maybe not _always_. But certainly from the moment you dropped that teacup." His voice is soft, gruff. He doesn't sound like Rumplestiltskin anymore.

"That was my first day there!" she exclaims.

"Second actually."

"The first was spent in that dungeon. It hardly counts." She playfully tugs on one lock of his hair. "You were absolutely dreadful to me."

"Was I? I suppose you shall have to punish me." The words are terribly serious sounding. At least for a moment. "Spanking?"

She smacks him on his leather-clad arse and smiles. "What _is_ it with you and spanking anyway? This is the second time you've mentioned it."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see." He pulls back away from her slightly and wiggles his eyebrows.

"Oh just forget that for now and kiss me, you foolish man." Her arms wrap tighter around his neck and pull him down to her.

For a moment he hovers above her lips. "You always did make the first move, didn't you?"

She rolls her eyes and lets him close the distance between them.

Emma takes a deep breath before knocking on the door to Gold's home. She's been there before, but she never feels comfortable invading the man's space. And this is the first time she's attempted to contact him since her return from their world, since her discovery that she has magic, and since her discovery that Gold has the lovely Belle French staying with him.

Gold…with a girlfriend…she never thought she'd see the day.

Her first knock goes unanswered. But she knows Gold is a cagey fellow and even if he's there, he might very well be ignoring her. She knocks again, a little bit louder, a little less hesitant. No one had seen him out at his shop. He wasn't at Granny's and it wasn't rent day. So that really left his home. She knocks a third time and remembers the cabin, the one he had taken that florist to. Perhaps he could be…

She hears a scream coming from inside his house and it's certainly not a masculine sounding voice. _Belle_. Even if Gold was elsewhere, it appears that Belle is here, in his house, and in trouble. There's another hoarse cry and Emma makes a split second decision. It wouldn't be the first time she had walked into his house unannounced. It's just that _this_ time required kicking the door in. As a bail bondsperson this was something she had done before when chasing down her prey so it was second nature. She knows exactly the right place to kick to do the least amount of damage.

In moments, she has her gun out and she's moving quietly into the front hallway. At least, it should be the front hallway. But instead the door opens into a room that is far too large and tall to really belong inside Gold's house. She can understand redecorating but this is completely ridiculous.

_Magic_.

It appears that Gold even uses magic to alter his own home. _What an odd man_.

She only has moments to contemplate why he's altered the appearance of his home before she discovers where the scream was coming from. Belle is seated on the large table that is in the center of the room. There's a man leaning over her and he has apparently ripped open the front of the yellow ball gown she's wearing (she tries not to question why Belle is even dressed in such a way in the first place). Belle is trying to cover her bared breasts with her arms, looking slightly distressed, but the man doesn't allow her. He grips both of her wrists and pulls her arms away from her. Belle struggles and cries out again.

Emma moves in closer and eyes the man in front of Belle. She can't see much from where she is, but she knows it's most certainly _not_ Mr. Gold. While his hair is of a similar length to the pawnbroker's, it's curly and slightly more grey. The light catches the man's skin and she notes it's not the peachy hue of normal human skin, but instead some sort of ever-changing shades of green, gold, and grey. Tattoos? Was he covered in strange tattoos over his entire back and arms, something that gave him a strange shimmering, almost patterned look?

It didn't matter, really. Whoever he was, she knew he was clearly _not_ welcome as he pawed at Belle and tore at her clothes. The woman may be with the most unlikely of men, but she pretty clearly has eyes _only_ for Mr. Gold. And she knows the pawnbroker only has eyes for her as well. She fears for the town if Gold ever finds out someone thought he could fool around with his girl behind his back, _especially_ if that attention was wanted.

Emma strides over to the pair and puts one hand on the man's shoulder and yanks him hard away from Belle. One of his hands left Belle's wrist to fly up toward Emma and she ducks the outstretched hand that came close to colliding with her face.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Her voice is low and harsh. Belle uses that moment of freedom to grab the tattered remains of her gown and draw it up over herself, attempting some form of modesty. At least she has bought her that much dignity with her unexpected arrival. Belle's face turns an amazing shade of red as her eyes look anywhere but at Emma.

The creature whose shoulder she has caught turns and looks at her. His eyes are strange, almost reptilian, a bit too large for his face. His curled hair hangs limply alongside his angular features. His lips are curled back in a near snarl, a sort of feral look of sharpness and barely suppressed rage.

She stares at him for a moment. He still has one of Belle's wrists held in a vice grip and it seems he is not going to let go without a fight. He seems half-wild, as if the trappings of humanity don't quite fit him the way they should. He's human and yet he's still _other_, still a creature. He's slight, with narrow shoulders and an even narrower waist, but Emma fears she wouldn't be able to take him in a fight. There was something about him, a certain fierceness, that tells her he would fight to the death..

Emma notices a movement out of the corner of her eye that finally forces her eyes away from the strange half-mad creature she is still gripping in one hand. She glances down and watches as Belle twists her arm underneath the creature's hand. She expects her to try to pull away but is stunned to watch her turn her hand and grip the creatures in her own, entwining his long greenish-grey fingers with her own much smaller, human ones.

Emma's eyes widen and she turns to look at the creature once more, studying him more carefully. She sees almost nothing in the features that she recognizes. It's finally the nose, with its slight hook and flared nostrils, that make her realize she _knows_ this creature, far better than she wishes she did. "Gold?" It's all she can manage to choke out in that moment.

His snarl turns into a wide grin and the hand not entwined with Belle's jumps up in a strange sort of flamboyant movement. "Rumplestiltskin, dearie." He rolls his "r" in a way that is not so dissimilar to Gold's lyrical accent, just done with a bit more flourish than the quiet pawnbroker had.

She releases him and steps back. "What the hell is this?" Rumplestiltskin moves closer to Belle and the young woman lets his hand go to allow him to wind his arm around her, his stance protective and yet gentle.

Belle speaks and when she does, her voice is tender. "This is how he looked when I first met him." Even though she's speaking to Emma, her eyes haven't left the creature's at her side. Rumplestiltskin's harsh features soften, his thin lips curling up into a gentle smile.

"Really?" It seems everyone was right and Emma could scarcely believe it now that she had seen what he did actually look like. Grey-green skin was certainly accurate, as was the bit about his teeth and his crazy unruly mop of hair. He barely resembles the Gold she knows, though she can see some sort of similarity with the shape of his face, the hooked nose, and the long slender fingers that are still threaded through Belle's.

"And you still…"

"Yes dearie," Rumplestiltskin says. "She still fell in love with me." He lets out a strange half-mad giggle and Emma steps a little further away. Perhaps she's really not needed here. It seems she's interrupted…something. She knows it's an intimate moment, but she doesn't quite understand the hows or whys of it. As in _how_ does this woman stand to be so close to this incarnation of Gold and _why_ does she clearly love him, warts and giggle and all. Emma is not a superficial person, but this is just not a situation she can really understand.

She takes a few more steps away. "Look, Gold. I need to talk to you…"

He gives her a scathing look which is all the more accented by his harsh features.

Emma holds up a hand. "_Not now_," she points out helpfully. "But sometime…about this magic thing." He looks as if he's about to speak but Emma doesn't give him the chance. She turns and beats a hasty retreat out of the altered version of his home.

As she steps out the door she turns and looks at it once more. It looks the same as it always does and so she cannot fathom how it looks so utterly different inside. She supposes there must be a spell for that.

* * *

"Well that was unexpected," Rumplestiltskin says, an amused lilt to his voice.

Belle releases her death grip on the tattered gown she's been holding ever since Emma barged in on them. She wonders how much she saw and she hopes she won't have to have a conversation about the trauma of seeing a half naked Rumplestiltskin when she's never seen him in all his Dark One glory. She giggles just a little bit and Rumplestiltskin smiles at her.

"A bit of a mood killer, really," he mutters darkly.

Belle leans up and captures his lips with hers, sucking lightly on his lower lip. Her hands come around his neck and tangle in his unruly mop of hair. After a moment, his hands clutch at her hips and yank her back to him, holding her flush against his hard length. Her legs wrap around him.

He rather reluctantly ends the kiss and rests his forehead against hers. "Well, at least you got to see me in the leather pants."

Belle lets out a laugh and leans back, brushing one lock of his hair out of his face. "You know what I haven't gotten to see?" She bites her lower lip with a mischievous grin.

He shakes his head and her grin widens into a big smile. "I can't even imagine."

"You…out of those leather pants." And she uses both hands to grab his arse and squeeze.

He laughs, kissing her once more, leaving her flushed and breathless. "Well, my dear, your wish is my command." And he quickly casts a protection spell, ensuring there will be no more disturbances, however honorable they may be.


End file.
